love is louder than words
by seasaltflavoredsweetpeas
Summary: when he's five years old Denmark finds a baby in the forest, it was going to be perfect and last forever, but even nations have to grow up.
1. things found in the forest

I find it hard to look up, the mountains are caging and I despise feeling trapped.

I look at the ground instead and it's stifled by cascades of time. The forest floor is saturated in leaves that bubble around dying secrets. They all seem content with their one uniform color of moist composting brown. A few months ago they were most likely drenched in the overwhelming reds and yellows of autumn, but now there musical crunching and snapping has been forced away by the sluggish melting snow. Then there's the dirt and the mountains, you know they've seen it all before.

Sverige doesn't seem to mind, the scenery doesn't trap him like it does me and I've never seen him look so lively. Really the whole situation is unjust, I'm older and taller, bigger too. I mean I'm five and he's only three! I should be the courageous one, not him, but the threat of bears and wildcats keeps me at bay. Of course there's always the possibility that Sverige isn't brave, he's just too young to know to be scared.

"Ah, ha! ba, ba, ba. brrrr, ba!" then there's an echoing thump and "waaaaaaah, waaaaaaaahhh."

My feet splash across the the frozen dirt and melting snow, steering me across the frosty landscape. I know that sound! I can still remember Sverige making those petite gurgling noises when he was a baby, he still does sometimes, it's like he wants to show of that he's the younger one.

Wait, Sverige! where did he go?

"Sve? Sve?" I really don't have the time for this. I'm sure that baby I heard was a new nation, you can always feel them, they tug away your emotions and fill the empty space with their own, you have to teach them not to do that.I need to find that baby but… "Sve, if you can hear me stay where you are!" There, now I can keep going.

Befor I realize it I'm running again. The cries have turned into a ferocious squalling and I just want it to stop. I end up stopping first though and it's all too loud. I'm spinning in whirlpools trying to find the source of it all until it's right there in front of me.

There, nestled in between tree roots is that tiny screaming child. It's face is all red and blotchy and it's chubby little cheeks are drawn up in frustrated creases that hold its eyes shut.

It's a cute baby boy and all I can think to do is wrap him in my cloak and rock him. I start rocking backwards and forwards and my capsizing feet churn the mud beneath them like it's butter. Eventually he stops crying and his sniffles turn into soft little cooing sounds.

Now that he's quiet I need to ask a question. "Do you have a name?" I asked Sve that question too, but I never got an answer. I'm hoping for it to be different this time. I never liked giving people names, that seems like something a nation should pick for themselves.

But unfortunately this one doesn't seem all that interested in replying either. Instead he squawks at me like a laughing hen. I'm annoyed now, I really wanted an answer, but he still needs a name. "Well I'll call you Norge then. Is that okay?"

"Ba!" Then he squeals and claps his hands in the air; it's completely adorable. This one's staying, I don't care what Sve thinks.

"Norge it is, then! Oh, and my name is Danmark if you were wondering."

I stand there a minute taking in this lovely little boy I've managed to pick up. My thoughts are clouded up with happiness at having a new friend, and it takes me a second to remember that Sverige is still out there. But now I have, and it's time to go back through the trees and slushy snow melt of early spring.

**AN: Norway hit his head on the tree as a baby, that's why he can see fairies :D I don't usually use this point of view so please tell me what you think. i don't own Hetalia**


	2. First Words

It's been a number of months since I found Norge, not that I ever keep track of how many.

It's winter now, there's snow pelting against the window of our little cabin, but we're safe and snug here by the fire.

My eyes trail over to Sverige and I can't help but smile at what he's doing. He's kneeling on top of the milking stool with his face mashed up against the window pane. His breath makes warm pockets of mist around the glass and his fingers swirl about above them, making patterns and squiggles as they move along. I consider joining him. But before I do I glance over at Norge, and just his cute face makes me go over to him instead.

Norge's pudgy baby hands pad about on the bed like duck feet. I really want to scoop him up and give him a hug, but instead I watch as he crawls up the blankets and topples onto the pillows with a shallow womph.

I giggle at his antics and he looks up at me with a curious face. "Hey Nore, you having fun?"

He doesn't answer, and that's expected; Nore can't talk yet, he's still too little. He pushes his hands down onto the mattress and sits up. I'm about to pick him up when I notice that the fire needs another log.

I sigh. I wish I didn't have to go out to the woodshed. It's freezing out and my cloak isn't very thick, but I'm going to regret it even more if the whole house is cold.

I head over to the door and pull on my boots and cloak. My hand is on the door knob when I hear it.

"D-Da-Dan-Danmawk!"

I whip my head around. D-did he just say that? "Nore, did you just say my name?"

He juts his lip in a disapproving look and raises his arms like he wants to be held. "Danmawk."

I can't help but give him a huge grin. "Nore! Nore you just said your first word!" And it was my name, I couldn't be more overjoyed. I run over to the bed and end up cradling him against my chest.

Now that his request had been fulfilled, Nore wraps his arms around my neck. He's so warm, and his hair smells like cinnamon and honey. He breathes out a satisfied gust of air. "Danmawk."

This is so wonderful. I missed Sverige being a baby, and now that I have Norge I never want him to grow up, but the fire's still burning.

I give a quick glance towards the hearth. "Nore, I really need to get some more firewood." The stuff in the fireplace has burned down to a few glowing embers and the house is starting to get cold.

He frowns at me, but I put him down anyways, even though I don't want to, and head back to the door. Then I'm stopped by another familiar voice. "Danmark, what was my first word?"

It takes me a few seconds and I have to think back a ways but finally I remember. "Well Sve, I'm rather sure that your first word was bear."

His normally serious face gives me a smile that reminds me of one ray of sunshine peeking through the sky on a cloudy day. "Thats a good first word, I like bears."

"I know Sve. Now I really do need to go get more firewood." And with no more questions to answer, I made my way into the chilly winter landscape.

**I don't own Hetalia**


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